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tacticaldiary · 11 months

Note

Can you do a fic where reader and simon are kidnapped and simon has to watch reader be tortured and creeped on by their kidnapper for information.Happy endibg with them being rescued.Ignore if it makes you uncomfortable :)

Captured In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault

"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"

He's been trained to keep his mouth shut, taught himself from enough pain to span a lifetime, but never did he fathom she'd be dragged into it with him. It's unforgivable.

Masterlist, Part 2

A/N: This is literally one of my favourite tropes-

The first thing he registers is the pounding in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ghost claws his way back to consciousness, sluggish mind attempting to click the pieces swimming in his head together into a cohesive narrative.

He was asleep...no, he was unconscious. Why? Ghost doesn't open his eyes for a moment, gathering his bearings. His senses snap to him quickly. The metallic smell of blood, the scent of gunpowder. The hard wood under him...a wooden chair? He exhales sharply, charting the sharp stinging in his side.

Injured.

He can't move his hands, ropes digging into the skin above his gloves. Once he's grasped back his control, steadied his breathing into something calm and acceptable, he takes a second to listen. There's nothing but the steady dripping of what he assumes is water on the floor. A pipe?

He's cold. His hands are freezing and so is his face-

His face?

Ghost's eyes snap open at the realisation.

His mask was gone, ripped off and on the floor by his feet. He's tied to a chair. He doubts he'd have gotten such a warm welcome if he was back at base right now, so where...?

An RPG, he suddenly remembers, a sour taste in the back of his throat. They had been on an OP with Price, the team had been split into two, sent to clear out a building on the outskirts of the city, tasked to meet in the middle.

An unaccounted armed squad had aimed at them with an RPG. Ghost remembers barking out an order to his partner, shoving her roughly out of the way behind a beat up car. The rocket hit the car, igniting the engine causing it to explode, the both of them thrown back against the brick wall behind them and-

Her.

His blood runs cold at the sound of a small groan from in front of him.

Shit.

Slowly, he raises his head and his stomach drops at the sight of her opposite to him in the same state.

Shit. No, this was all wrong. The RPG must have knocked them both out. They'd been captured.

"Fuck, my head." She groans, blinking herself awake. Like him, he can tell she's charting up the extent of her injuries, piecing together the events leading up to their capture.

Price would find them soon. They can't have hauled them too far away under the threat of them waking up mid transportation.

"Sleep well?" He rasps, watching her still, head snapping up to look at him.

"Best I've ever had." She responds dryly, looking him up and down. Her eyes linger on the dried blood staining his shoulder. It's a miracle the both of them ended up as unscathed as they did. Only bruises and scrapes, miraculously. She yanks on her bindings, scowling when they don't budge. Ghost can see the angry red marks around her wrists, the same as his. "We're in for a treat, huh?" She laughs humourlessly, leaning back in her chair. "Don't suppose you keep any knives hidden in your sleeves, L.T?" Half joking. She wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"Can't feel 'em." He grunts. "Must have searched us."

Of course they did.

She shifts in her seat, hating the idea of hands touching and probing at her when she's not awake to bat them away. Ghost would be just as, if not more uncomfortable with the thought, if the angry furrow in his brow is anything to interpret.

Voices. Footsteps. Both of them go rigid in their chairs, eyes snapping to the other. No words are exchanged, but a slight raise of the chin from her. They would not break.

She knows exactly what's to come for them for the next however long it took for their team to retrieve them. She's been through this before, been trained for it, seen it happen, hell she's even participated on being the one not in the chair.

They wouldn't break. The knowledge they have could compromise more than just their current operations. Ghost acknowledges the shaky exhale she lets out, casts her an unreadable look before the door swings open behind him, his eyes turning cold once more.

If she notes the tension in his shoulders, she doesn't mention it.

Three men walk into the room, mumbling under their breath. Russian. A quick glance to confirm the other caught it.

The thing with the both of them is that they worked better together than anybody else in the team. Working in tandem, information exchanged with just a glance, seemingly in tune with every thought and movement of the other. It's why they were almost always paired together.

"Some of the best your the military has to offer, you are.." He smiles, flicking through the file. "It seems I have struck a goldmine." The file snaps shut, is handed off the someone else.

She hopes the motherfucker gets a nasty papercut.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

They come twice a day. Once for him, once for her.

Ghost keeps his mouth shut, isn't surprised when she does as well. The both of them have been trained for situations like this, have both gone through a lot of shit that renders them capable of handling it.

It's her that he hasn't been trained to account for.

Ghost had only jeered at the men that interrogated him. Drenched after being waterboarded, bloody from being cut and beat, he had not given them a single thing to work with, taking what they threw at him with a calm, strong, cool exterior.

It was when they turned to her that he felt that crack.

Every knife turned against her, every crack of her bones, each small sound of pain that left her had an anger he'd never felt before bubble up inside him. Glaring death into the people who lay their hands on her as they questioned her, he stayed silent, unmoving as they put her through the same routine as him.

"Not long before they find us now." She'd said hoarsely after the second day. They'd just left them after being unsuccessful in loosening their tongues. Again. He takes in how her arm bends at a strange angle (He'd never forget the scream that teared out of her throat when they snapped it in half), the cuts dripping blood onto the floor and on her tattered clothes (Each one he'd pay back tenfold, he swears), and the exhaustion lining her face the same way he's sure he looks.

Being unmasked...it makes him more on edge than usual.

It's nothing she'd never seen before. She'd touched his bare face countless times, mumbled promises and declarations they had no business making against his lips at night. It had always been in private, shielded from the eyes of others. Now, out in the open, he was more aware of his reactions than ever before, refusing to let out any reaction except for the occasional grunt of pain.

"They're sure taking their damn time." He spits out.

"Gonna give them an earful when I get back." She cough, watery. Ghost's eyes widen when blood splatters to the floor. "Shit." She breathes, inhaling shakily.

Internal bleeding. A telltale sign.

He yanks against his bindings for the hundredth time. Nothing changes aside from more blood trickling down his torn open skin.

"Don't think about it." He orders. "Look here." When she doesn't listen, just blinking at the blood she coughed up as if in a trance, he repeats himself roughly, drawing her attention.

"Right here. Keep your eyes on me." He commands, and it's all she can do to let instinct take over and listen to his low voice. "That's it, love. Good."

She opens her mouth. Shuts it. Swallows dryly and tries again. "If I-"

"Shut up."

"Ghost." She says weakly, "It's a possibility, and if-"

"I told you to shut up." He hisses, fixing her with a glare.

She was in a much worse state than him. Far bloodier. They were rougher with her, thinking she'd be the first one to break, to concede under pain and answer their questions.

Safehouses, plans, locations, inner workings. The intel they stole a month ago. They wanted to know answers that neither of them would ever give them.

The door swings open. The man from the first day walks in, in crisp clothes, wrinkling his nose and the sight of them.

The sight makes Ghost pause. He was in charge here, clearly. This kind of work wasn't normally put on people like that, which meant that things were getting serious. Something had sparked urgency in them if they were seeing this guy. Something had changed.

The 141.

As if on cue, there's the distant sound of gunfire, and the building trembles slightly, dust cracking down from the ceiling. It's ignored by the man completely.

"Admirable, you are." He addresses them. "But I'm afraid there's not time for a soldier's pride during war." They stiffen when he pulls out a revolver from his pocket, clicking open the empty chamber. "I require answers. Call it compensation for what was stolen from me. I don't think you understand that I will get my way in the end. By whatever means necessary."

A single bullet. Loaded into the chamber. Ghost follows the movement with his eyes.

"I'll give you a final chance to be cooperative before I give you a choice." The Russian says evenly, looking at them both in turn.

"Go to hell." Ghost drawls. In his bloodied, beaten state, weak from blood loss and in a disarray from being tortured, he seems to look even more intimidating than usual.

The man sighs deeply. He clicks the chamber shut.

He aims at her and fires.

She barely has the chance to tense before a click fills the room. Nothing. It's when he turns the gun to Ghost that her breath catches in her throat, panic clawing it's way up and through her veins.

Ghost does not flinch. Does not wince or react, merely holds her gaze calmly, in that reassuring steady way he always has.

Click. Nothing.

He continues moving back and forth between them until there's only one chamber left. An undeniable bullet inside. The man turns to Ghost, a smile on his face.

"The choice you have, my friend, is which one of you I put this bullet through."

Ghost visibly stiffens in his chair, fixes him with a scathing stare.

"If you refuse to answer, I have no issue shooting you both." He says evenly, weighing the revolver in his hands. "So who will it be? You, or your lady?" He points the gun back and forth, her heart in her throat.

Me. She thinks. Pick me. The thought of him taking that bullet when there's a choice for her to instead makes her sick.

But it's Ghost. And he's selfless in the most annoying of ways.

"Me." He says tightly, the words forced out and full of venom.

The Russian grins, pleased, raising the gun. She's about to yell at him, tell him to shoot her instead-

She doesn't have to.

The gun turns to her, fires, and pain explodes in her right thigh, wrenching out a scream from between her clenched teeth as she doubles over. Her vision goes black for a second and she can't breathe.

Yelling. There's yelling over the ringing in her ears. Ghost shouts profanities at the man, threats and growls as his chair scrapes against the floor at his attempts to get loose.

He breaks.

The Russian simply laughs, tucking his gun away.

Where the fuck were they? Where were the others? The team? They were close, that much was obvious, so why the fuck weren't they here yet, then?

She gasps when her head is wretched back painfully by her hair, pain thrumming through her like sharp needles as she's forced to straighten up. It hurts, fuck, it hurts worse accompanied with every other goddamn thing wrong with her right now.

"You just couldn't seem to stop looking at her. I thought It'd be more of an incentive to loosen your tongue." He chuckles at Ghost's fury.

"They won't find your body." He hisses, low and threatening, eyes wild. "I'll make sure you're in so many pieces you-"

"I understand why, though." He continues on like Ghost isn't threatening great bodily harm on him. "She's quite the beaty isn't she? Even under all that gore...so easy on the eyes."

She had taken beating after beating. Cracked ribs, cuts and bruises, waterboarding and being prodded with a hot poker, but this? The lecherous way he looks her up and down, yanks he head back farther to expose her neck? It makes her blood run cold, her heart stop.

His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body, grabbing and yanking and pulling in places he has no right to touch. Her head spins from the bullet wound and the pain, and it takes a lot to gather her thoughts.

"Motherfucker-" Ghost snarls.

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" He croons at Ghost, who jolts in his chair, pulling at his bleeding broken skin to get loose. "Not that you can do much but watch." He laughs.

This, she would not let happen. She would not let him take something that was hers and hers alone to give to whomever she decided. When he leans down farther, she gathers all her remaining strength and rears her head back, smashing it into his nose.

The satisfying crunch of bone and yell of pain makes it all worth it, draws a smile from her, even if his blood splatters the side of her face.

"Bitch." He spits out. A hand cracks across her face so hard black spots float over her vision. She cries out as it jostles her leg, her broken arm, all her cuts and and he ribs. Before she can gather her bearings, a searing pain pierces through her side, the Russian's knife driving straight into her flesh. She can't help the choked scream that leaves her, hears the way Ghost shouts, his struggling intensifying.

He wretches her out of the chair, shoves her to the floor. Tears track down her bloodied cheeks, not out of fear, but out of pure pain and anger. Disgust, pain and rage is what she feels when the Russian straddles her hips, keeping a hand on her broken arm to keep her down. His other one wraps around her neck, squeezing roughly to cut off her air.

"Answer my questions." He seethes at Ghost. "Your safehouses, the intel you fucking stole from us. Where are they!? Tell me or you'll see this pretty thing die." As if to prove his point, he squeezes harder, making her choke.

Ghost spits out threats that would make any normal man quiver. He would rip this man apart. Rip into him slowly with all his knives, prolong it as much as he could. Days, maybe even weeks. He deserved to die by his hands for what he's done to her, for touching someone so wholly and utterly his. Every single cut he'd return tenfold, twice as deep.

Part of her wants to succumb to the darkness edging her vision, but she's afraid if she does she might never wake up. She couldn't die. Not here, not like this. Ghost...Simon would blame himself, she knows it. He'd replay it over and over again, wonder if he could have done anything to prevent it.

"Get the fuck off of her!" He seethes. Seeing her under him, red in the face and bleeding, dying makes panic tear through him, a horrible desperate feeling he can't help but succumb to. She wasn't going to die, he wouldn't allow it.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her. Take me instead.

The world was fucking cruel.

The past year had been the best of his life. The lightest, the most at peace he'd ever felt. Loving her came easily, naturally. Something he couldn't help even when he tried to push her away.

Her eyes catch Ghost's. His are desperate and frantic in a way she's never seen before. That...that was panic. But that couldn't be right because Ghost? He didn't panic. He planned and adapted, got angry and was calm. Panicking? She'd never seen it before.

Fuck. She wasn't going to die. She...was, wasn't she? Already, her vision was slipping away, her hearing going muffled. No. No, this isn't it. Not here, not like this.

If she died, Simon might, as well, and she loved him to much to leave him in a situation like this.

Clenching her jaw, she blindly reaches her bound hands to her side. When her fingers brush against the hilt of the dagger inside her flesh, she pauses.

It was the only thing keeping her from bleeding out faster than her bullet wound was already doing...

She yanks it out with all the strength she has left, slams it into the throat of the man above her. He's too busy with Ghost to chart her up as a threat. The way his eyes bug out of his head as he releases her throat in favour of clutching his own has a sob ripping through her mangled throat as she gasps in greedy gulps of air.

She shoves the man off her and in movements wild and jerky, climbs on top of him switching their positions. Ripping the knife out of his throat, she yells a broken shout as she brings it down over his chest. Then his shoulder, his neck. His chest. Over and over again, tears blurring her vision, adrenaline making her shaky, she drives the knife into him again and again thinking about nothing but killing him, taking his life so he couldn't take theirs, so she could feel her skin stop itching from the way she was touched.

"-dead, he's dead!" A voice floats to her, far, far away.

A name...her name. Her movements slow down as she recognises Ghost's voice calling out at her. Confused, disorientated, she glances over her shoulder, pausing, chest heaving.

"You're alright, sweetheart." He says, his eyes a fraction wider than usual. "Here, look at me. Right here, love." He waits till she drags her gaze up. "He's dead. It's enough."

Enough.

The word cracks something in her, the knife clattering onto the stone floor and she looks down at the bloody, unrecognisable mess under her. Scrambling off of him, she leans over and vomits up bile; acrid and burning her throat as it comes out. A strangled sob leaves her as she finishes, realising the sheer amount of blood on her. Her hand shakily goes to her side, comes back bloody in a way that makes her head spin.

"Grab the knife." Ghost urges, looking ready to try to snap the chair under him himself to reach her. "Can you do that for me? Pass me that knife." When she doesn't respond the way he wants, Ghost takes in a shaky breath and repeats himself, voice hard.

"Sergeant. The knife." He commands, low and deep and urgent.

Still a soldier despite her trembling, her body reacts to the order automatically, head clearing. Swallowing, she moves slowly, agonisingly to reach the knife.

"You're doing good." Ghost praises when she drops the knife for the second time from her shaky fingers. "Bring it here."

The moment the knife reaches his fingertips, he cuts through his bonds, kneeling in front of her, cutting hers off too. "I've got you." He murmurs, pulling her close, laying her over his lap as gently as he can as he looks over her. He doesn't really need to, it's more instinct to do so. Ghost was watching her the entire time. He knows the location of every single one of her injuries.

Swearing under his breath, he leans over, roughly rips part of the dead man's shirt off, bunching it up and pressing it against each of her two wounds. She whimpers, a strangled sound that makes him clench his jaw in rage and worry.

"I know it hurts." He consoles her while he secures another part of the shirt around the wounds. "You did well, it's over now." Mindless talk. He just needed to keep her awake.

Her hand closes over his, stilling him as he ties the final knot.

"'m sorry." She breaths, shallow and short. "Can't...Just go." She shoves weakly at his shoulder, and the incredulous, angry look Simon gives her would have been funny if everything wasn't on fire inside her.

"I'm not fucking leaving you, you dolt." He snaps, slowly pulling her up so she's sitting. The way she bites her lip hard to keep in the whine of pain doesn't escape him. "Easy." He says, supporting her despite his own screaming ribs. His left leg was mangled up, ankle dislocated so Ghost doubts he'd be walking with her out of here.

It was too risky. They could run into someone armed, and at such a disadvantage...no, it was better to stay here and wait for the others to show up.

Her eyes flutter, panic slams into him.

"None of that." He demands, prodding her forehead to make her focus. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, love."

A small huff from her that might have been a laugh sends her into a harsh coughing fit. "'m trying Simon." She whispers, words slur.

"Try harder." He squeezes her closer to him, keeping an ear out for footsteps.

"So hard to please." Barely a whisper. "You...you're okay?"

"Christ, woman," he huffs, leaning down to press his lips against her bloody forehead. "I'm better off than you."

A slight smile, her eyes fluttering shut. The loose grip she'd had on Ghost's vest slackens. His bloods turns to ice.

"Hey." He tries, calls out her name. "Hey!" He yells it this time, shakes her gently. Then rougher when she doesn't wake up, breath stuck in his throat. No. No, she was still breathing, he chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

This wouldn't work. Ghost steels himself and stands up, gritting his teeth at the pain that radiates up his leg into his whole body. Ignoring it, he hauls her up in his arms, stumbles slightly.

Staying here wasn't an option anymore, not when she was unconscious, not when the small puffs of breath against his neck could stop at any moment, not when he could lose her.

Gripping onto the small bloody knife, he limps towards the door, pushes it open without hesitation.

He'd walk for a mile like this if it meant he'd get to hear her laugh again. Fuck his own injures, her wellbeing was more important. Ghost moves the knife between his teeth, bone clacking against metal, metallic blood on his tongue. Hiking her up more securely, he starts down the hall, intending to find his team before they found him.

He'd die before he ever let her bleed out on his watch.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her hearing comes to her first. Muffled, but still present. Under the dark haze of sleep, she hears muffled noises. The steady beeping of a machine, the rustling of bedsheets nearby. A voice talking int he distance, something she's unable to make out.

It takes too much out of her. Her mind is sluggish, thinking is hard, so sinking back into the arms of whatever is pulling her down is easier. Painless.

The second time her sense of touch returns.

Someone's holding her hand. Rough, calloused fingers, running up and down her palm, soothing gestures than accompany the beeping that she realises is a heart monitor. The familiar pressure, the roughness of those hands, the soothing movements...it lulls her back to sleep almost immediately.

The third time is quick.

Her sight returns last, One moment she's seeing darkness, the next she's blinking up at white florescent lights, the clean scent of hospital waking her up. What...?

Pushing herself up, a gasp tears out of her throat when she finds herself unable to move. Blinking and looking down, she swallows as she sees herself.

Covered in bandages, a cast around her arm. Heavy wrapping around her thigh and chest. All of her is stiff and achy. It all comes back to her in a rush.

The chair. The ropes. The bullets and beatings.

The blood.

Her stomach lurches at the memories. Simon? Where was Simon? He made it out, right? What if-

Her mind immediately settles down when she spots him. Ghost lays on the hospital bed next to hers, eyes shut, chest steadily rising up and down. Relief slams into her so hard tears prick her eyes. They made it out. Both of them. For a moment she thought...

The need to be near him, to touch him, to make sure he's real wins over her desire to stay put and ward of any discomfort. Her second attempt at moving is successful, only because of the strong pain meds dulling the edge of pain she's feeling.

Slowly, she pulls herself to the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly lowering herself onto the ground. She gasps when her leg protests, the one she was shot in. Testing her weight, she glances desperately at Simon, still sleeping. She needed him, needed to touch him, to feel him under her hands, solid and real.

She uses the walls to support her, shuffling over until she's in front of his bed. After taking a moment to gather herself and breathe, she reaches out with a shaky hand, places it on his cheek. Her throat closes at the feeling of his warm skin.

Ghost being Ghost wakes up instantly at the touch. Eyes snapping open, instantly alert even when just waking up.

Relief fills his face, something so powerful it makes a small sound push past her lips, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're okay." She whispers, hoarse from not talking.

"You shouldn't be up." He responds, propping himself up with a wince she doesn't miss. He frowns at the way she trembles, looking her up and down slowly.

"I just..." She brings a hand up to wipe off her tears. "Sorry if I woke you." A watery chuckle. "Just needed to make sure, you know?"

"I do." He admits. Ghost's hand slips up her uninjured arm, guiding her onto the bed with him until she's laying down. A long, shaky exhale pushes itself out of her as she lays her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, quicker than usual but still steady soothes her instantly. He was familiar, the dips in his body, the hard muscle and those arms. It was so achingly familiar she wanted to cry.

Having her here, having her in her arms and holding her...it was almost too much to bear. Ghost had never felt relief like this.

11 days.

11 days she hadn't woken up, each one made him more irritable, restless, snappy. He was ordered to stay in bed, but he got out of it every night to sit next to her, holding her hand, just silently watching over her. 11 days was plenty of time for him to think, to run through everything he did to figure out a way he could have prevented this.

It was plenty of time to realise that he'd never take her for granted, even if there was a gun to his head.

He'd carried her all the way out of the building until he'd spotted Gaz. The poor bloke had done a double take at them, shouted something frantically in his comms and ran at them.

Ghost had forced himself to stay awake as the others arrived, forced himself to make sure she got the care she needed, sat awake with the the entire time on the heli, until they got to the hospital. Only then had he let himself get checked over and crashed hard, exhausted in a way that ran deep into his bones.

"I'm glad you're okay." He says quietly into her hair, strong arms pulling her close, their bodies intertwined.

"Are you sure this is okay?" She asks, though the way she sinks into him says she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Don't want to accidently hurt you or reopen anything."

"You're worse off than me, I think I should be the one worrying about that." He responds, rubbing small circles on her waist. Soothing. Calming.

"I'll always worry." She mumbles against his chest, already feeling sleep pulling her in.

"Your downfall." He huffs, pressing his lips to her forehead for a long moment. "Thought I lost you." The admission is something vulnerable, real. Painful.

"Rather me than you." She responds, eyes slipping shut.

"Say that again and see where it lands you." He grumbles, arms tightening around her. Being as helpless as he was in that situation wasn't something he'd ever forget. Having to sit there, watch those bastards touch her, hurt her, forcing himself to look impassive and cold. Unreacting.

It had been a worse torture than any of their knives.

The second he was cleared to leave the medbay, he was going on a nice little trip back. He'd retrace his steps, get Price to get him the name of every. Single. Motherfucker that had been in the building that day.

Every single one would meet a fate worse than death itself could present them with.

They'd pray for the reaper before Ghost was done with them. He'd make them beg, draw out every single scrape they left on her until they begged to be spared. Only then would Ghost let them bleed out, nice and slow. Maybe he'd even do it one at a time, make the others watch.

They're dark thoughts, but the fury that had been boiling inside him for the past two weeks needed to an outlet, and what better place than the very bastards that had dared to lay their hands on her? The thought pacifies him for now.

He's assured his revenge, but she's more important than anything like that could ever be to him.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You can't get rid of me that easy, though. Thought you knew that by now." Completely unfazed by his threat.

"I wouldn't want to." He assures her, rolling his eyes. "It'd be a bloody shame to lose someone like you, love."

It makes her smile against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Safe. She was safe here.

It doesn't take long before she's drifted off again, securely in his arms.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(09/07/2023)

4K notes · View notes

hcrringtonsbat · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 (𝐄.𝐌.)

summary: over the course of your friendship, eddie never noticed that you didn’t swear. he took it upon himself to find a way to change that. it was pure chance that you were also screaming his name in the process. [4.7k+ words]

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, oral (female receiving), humping, dirty talk

pairing: eddie munson x female!best friend!reader

a/n: oh. my. goodness.this is the first full-blown fic that i’ve written in a while and my first ever published smut. this is probably my favorite thing i’ve ever written & the longest. as always, i hope you enjoy and I encourage you to interact with this. i’d really appreciate it. *also, i know hellraiser comes out in 1987… just pretend it didn’t for my sake <3

part 2

“Ouch! Motherlover!” You exclaimed out of the blue, breaking the silence in the room. You shook your left hand vigorously, hoping to alleviate the pain that struck your pointer finger.

After examining the injury, you gazed up at Eddie sitting on his throne. He had a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. He looked slightly concerned, hearing you cry out in pain had startled him but on the other hand, it seemed as if he could burst out laughing at any second.

“Papercut.” You explained, holding up your finger so that he could see.

A smirk appeared on his face, “I figured. Looks gnarly.” Eddie’s tone was laced with sarcasm.

The two of you were currently in the drama room at Hawkins High School. Hellfire had just been slaughtered by the Cult of Vecna and was in need of a new campaign. Everyone in the club was itching to prove to not only themselves but Eddie that they were capable of outsmarting him and beating his new labyrinth of a campaign.

You weren’t Dungeon Master but, you were his best friend and a big help when it came to brainstorming. Eddie often found that whenever the two of you were riffing off of the top of each other's heads, he came up with the best ideas. So, it wasn’t unusual that you’d stay late after school to help him.

“What?” His sarcastic response didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Nothing.” He shrugged, still smirking. Eddie peaked at you from behind his hair to see that you weren’t buying it.

You poked his arm in the same spot where his bat tattoo was permanently etched into his skin, “C’mon. What?”

If Eddie knew you half as well as he thought he did, he should’ve guessed that you would probe, “It’s just-” He paused and chuckled to himself, “Motherlover? Really Y/N.”

“What? I always say that!”

“Yeah, exactly. You always say “motherlover” He air quoted, “I mean, what’s wrong with just saying motherfucker and moving on?”

“Nothing’s wrong with swearing. It’s just not my thing.” You shrugged as you continued to scribble away in your notebook.

Even when the two of you were harebrained freshmen, ripe for the picking, Eddie can’t recall hearing you curse. He just assumed that it was because your innocence was still lively & intact.

But as time went on and your age increased, you would stay out past your curfew, unbeknownst to your parents. Or you would indulge in smoking with Eddie at his trailer. So, it wasn’t like you were some goodie-two-shoes who got on her knees every Sunday to pray and repent for her sins.

Eddie reached across the table and closed the book you were writing in. Then, he proceeded to gently snatch it away from you and slide it across the empty table. The two of you watched as it slid off the edge and smacked the floor.

“I was using that.” It would be a lie if you said you were surprised that he’d do something like that but, that’s just who Eddie is. A man that goes to great lengths to get your undivided attention.

“I call bullshit,” Eddie began, adjusting his position in his throne so that one of his legs was thrown haphazardly across the wooden arm, “Out of all of the crazy, ridiculous, rash stunts that we’ve pulled over the course of our friendship… you draw the line at swearing?”

“I mean, Henderson curses more than you and he’s like… twelve.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s fourteen,” You corrected.

“Don’t try and change the subject, princess.” Eddie deadpanned, not breaking eye contact.

Your mind flashed away from your current conversation to a dream that you had maybe three nights ago.

Eddie’s face was burrowed between your thighs, licking up your cunt before stopping at your clit and swirling his tongue, the way that drove you crazy.

Despite everything, despite your legs wrapped around his shoulders, despite his hair covering the top half of his face, he never broke eye contact with you. Not even for a second.

“You like that, princess?” He asked you before continuing to lap at your pussy.

You were instantly transported back to where you sat. In a room with Eddie. Not in his trailer sprawled out on his bed, “What have I told you about calling me Princess?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him.

He swatted it away as quickly as you lifted it, “How ‘bout this. I’ll stop when you tell me to shut the fuck up.”

You protested, “No, I’m not doing that!”

“How about shut the hell up. That’s better, right?” Eddie continued, refusing to let up.

Despite his best efforts, you still stood your ground, “Gosh, no, Eddie!”

“Alright,” He paused. You could tell by how his eyebrows were furrowed and how he mindlessly twirled his rings that he was thinking and hadn’t given up yet.

“Telling me to stick it where the sun shines?” He proposed, “It’s a step in the right direction, huh?” Eddie smiled.

At this, you didn’t even try and protest. You just shook your head and rose from your chair, walking to the end of the table and retrieving the notebook that Eddie had so kindly flung across the room.

Returning to your seat, you opened the page you’d been working on and finished your thoughts.

A few seconds passed before Eddie realized that you were intentionally ignoring him. He scoffed, “Jesus H Christ. You’re hopeless, princess.”

You swallowed, trying so hard not to go back to the deep crevices of your mind that thought of Eddie that way. He’s your best friend. Get yourself together. You told yourself.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get there one day.”

He used this nickname so often that it could’ve doubled as your name. But today, you couldn’t stand to have him call you anything other than Y/N. You had to change the subject or else you’d be clenching your thighs the entire drive home.

“Hey!” You whacked his hand closest to you.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we could’ve had the new beast for this month's campaign if you weren’t such an asshole?” Another whack, this time on his kneecap.

“One day.” He reiterated before scribbling something on a scratch sheet of paper, completely ignorant to the pool of desire he caused to form in your underwear just by simply calling you a name.

˚ · •. ° .

The entire room erupted in whoops and hollers as Frank Cotton’s dismembered body panned into the frame. Jeff stood on the edge of his loveseat while Gareth clapped at the television screen. Eddie on the other hand remained silent, focusing on the movie.

Occasionally, members of Hellfire gathered at Jeff’s house to watch a horror movie. Today, it was decided that you’d be watching Hellraiser.

This was a very different pick from your run-of-the-mill Nightmare on Elm Street or Friday the 13th. Hellraiser breached a new level of gore and Eddie was forced to step in as dungeon master and forbid the younger members of Hellfire to participate in this particular flick.

“I don’t want to be responsible for replacing your bedsheets.” He’d said when talking to Dustin, which resulted in Eddie being told off with some expletives.

Although he didn’t tell you, Eddie considered asking if you wanted to sit this one out. He remembers how nervous you looked when people started getting slaughtered left and right by Jason Voorhees. From how Gareth described it, Hellraiser made all the other movies you’d watched seem like a walk in the park.

Now, you sat next to him, squirming slightly in your seat on Jeff’s couch. Eddie turned his head to glance at you, expecting to see you looking away from the carnage on screen but, he was mistaken.

You didn’t peel away from the bloodshed. Not even for a second. He should’ve known that you’d do this. Be stubborn and stare the violence down, even if all you wanted to do was shield your eyes.

Eddie thought of a way to add fuel to the fire.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. As expected, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. This was something that Eddie did so often during these movies that it became second nature.

He gave you a few seconds to adjust to his arm before he inched in closer to your ear and whispered, “Are you creeped out?” Despite his devious intentions, it was a genuine question.

If Eddie got even a sense that this was starting to get too much for you, he would’ve whisked you out of there.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, still keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

Eddie pressed on, “Are you sure? I can tell them to turn it off… princess.” He added at the last second.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Suddenly, you became hyperaware of everything. The way Eddie’s arm was draped across your shoulder, the weight of his chest as it pressed against you, his thigh glued to yours, his breath fanning across your neck as he spoke… everything.

If this movie wasn’t going to be the death of you, he sure was.

Despite everything your body was urging you to do, you didn’t give in. You just kept a neutral look on your face and paid him no attention.

“Oh, don’t be that way,” He urged, “You’re not gonna tell me to fuck off, princess?” There was an edge to his voice.

It was no surprise that you felt wetness begin to pool in your underwear for the second time this week. Lord. If only he was aware of the things he did to me, maybe he wouldn’t do them at all.

“C’mon, Y/N. Just say one bad word, for me?” He begged. When he said this, the typical playfulness in his voice was gone, nowhere to be found.

You tore your eyes from the television, but when you looked at Eddie’s face only to see that signature Cheshire cat grin upon his face, you knew you fell for it.

All Eddie wanted was for you to give in. It wasn’t the thing he’d longed for you to do the most but, it was still something. A step in the right direction, he’d said earlier this week.

He was itching to say it again now. Instead, he opted for, “Progress, Princess. I’ll crack you soon enough.”

Just like that, Eddie turned his attention back to the movie. He left his arm draped around you but other than that, there was no indication that he’d ever interacted with you.

You gaped at him for a moment. How could he just-? Why would he-? Is he just gonna do something like that, right here, right now, and pretend like he doesn’t know the effect he has on me? You thought.

“Y/N!” A voice ripped you from your thoughts.

Gareth looked on edge, “Are you even watching? This movie cost like $15 to rent at Family Video. The least you could do is pretend you’re interested.” He scolded.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to stand on Jeff’s coffee table and yell what Eddie just did, how he riled you up only to leave you high and dry.

But what good would that do? Admitting that your best friend made you wet just by whispering in your ear?

It would just result in teasing from Jeff and Gareth– maybe even Eddie himself. You could hear him now, “Sweetheart, if I make you that hot and bothered all you have to do is use your words like a big girl, ‘kay?”

You bit your tongue, opting for the rational option. To keep watching the movie and pretending as if nothing had happened.

˚ · • . ° .

Three days later, you found yourself experiencing merciless teasing at the hands of Eddie Munson again. Well– not exactly. At least not yet but, you could feel it coming.

Even with your inhibitions low, even with a blunt laced through your fingers… you just knew.

You were currently sitting in Eddie’s bed, sharing a blunt and talking about nothing in particular while he tuned his guitar. Right now, your eyes were closed, listening to him pluck away.

You felt his bed even out and you opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to see where the man was going.

He grabbed a pick that was on his desk. Your head fell back against his pillow when you realized he wasn’t going far.

As the bed dipped down, you heard a bang against the wall followed by, “Shit!” Eddie cursed.

This time, you sat all the way up, seeing Eddie grab his elbow, “I hit my funny bone.” He explained, taking another second to breathe before extending his arm in your direction, signaling for you to pass the joint.

“I think that’s enough guitar for me today.” He joked, before taking a long, deep, inhale to let the smoke enter his lungs before exhaling it all out.

“You should take a page outta my book and try not to curse.” You said, resting your head against the wall for support.

Eddie looked at you, taking another drag, “And why would I do that when it’s just so…” He searched for the right word, “Fun? Liberating?” He couldn’t decide.

“How about neither?” You challenged.

You had no idea why you started to antagonize your best friend. Maybe you just wanted to get the teasing out of the way since it’s been a little while since the last time he tried to get you to swear.

Or, maybe you were hoping it lead to somewhere else.

“You think you’re better than me, huh?” Eddie smirked, “You’ve got some superiority kink or something.”

You decided to throw him a bone, “I do have the urge to curse sometimes.”

“Oh yeah? And when is that?” He asked, interest piqued.

“When I get hurt. Like the other day in the drama room. I don’t think you realize how close I was to actually saying it.”

You extended your arm and pried the blunt from Eddie’s lips, “And stop hogging this.”

“So, you don’t wanna swear like a sailor any other time?” He inquired, not even phased that you stole his joint away from him.

Eddie decided that you could keep that one since it was almost gone anyway. He reached for his tin “lunchbox” and grabbed another pre-rolled blunt. He’d probably pinch himself later, knowing that it was supposed to be for a customer but, right now, he didn’t care.

“Not even when you’re touching yourself?” Eddie asked so nonchalantly as he fumbled with his lighter. He said it as casually as you’d ask about the weather or if someone was enjoying their meal.

If you knew he would have dropped a bombshell like that, you never would have brought it up in the first place.

“W-what?” You managed to sputter out, “Why would you even ask me something like that?”

He sighed, “Don’t tell me I struck a nerve, princess?” There he goes. With that nickname again.

Oh, you struck a nerve, alright.

“We never talk about stuff like this is all.” Your brain didn’t even know what to make out of this interaction.

“There’s no time like the present, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, staring you down, “So, what’s the answer?”

You thought about the different ways to reply. You could continue to hold out, refusing to entertain Eddie’s ideas. Or you could give in and end this cycle of desire and damp panties.

Eddie obviously got tired of waiting for you to respond and decided to throw another question into the mix, “What about when someone else touches you?”

And just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, they did.

“No.” You answered definitively.

I don’t want someone else. I want you. You thought but didn’t dare say.

“Hmm.” Eddie nodded his head at this newfound information and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding in.

Thank God the 3rd degree was finally ove-

“So when Harrington went to town,” He started, “You weren’t itching to say anything?”

You had a brief (and I mean brief) romantic history with Steve Harrington.

During your junior year, the two of you went on one date together to the drive-in movie theater just outside of Hawkins. It was a nice experience but, you found yourself longing to be watching a different movie with Hellfire– well, Eddie.

You mentioned hanging out with Steve to Eddie once. You were shocked that he remembered it but what shocked you even more was that he assumed Steve “went to town.”

“Considering we never even got that far, no.” You admitted, thankful to put that rumor to rest, whether he’d conjured it up in his head or heard it roaming the halls.

But of course, knowing Eddie, he just had to be thorough. He asked again, just to clarify, “So Harrington never…?”

“Nope.”

Eddie took a beat, mentally taking notes. Good.

Another question popped into his mind and with him already on his second blunt of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Has anyone ever?”

“No.”

He hummed, then took another slow drag of his blunt, making you wait in anticipation for what he was going to say next, “If it makes you feel any better, no guy at school knows anything worth a damn.”

You couldn’t hold back the scoff that passed your lips. “Right. And you do?” If Eddie could tease you, you could tease him right back.

Eddie had taken home his fair share of people after shows at The Hideout, mostly people just itching to say they’ve slept with someone in a band. He was surprised that hearing you doubt his abilities in bed stung him so much.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” He stopped, then added under his breath, “I bet I could have you screaming.”

You heard him, heard what he said… what he was alluding to. Your breath caught in your throat and you forced yourself to swallow it down. Get ahold of yourself. He’s only teasing.

Eddie didn’t intend for you to hear what he said but, would it be such a bad thing that you did?

He can’t recall the last time he looked at you as strictly his best friend. The two of you crossed borders that a typical duo wouldn’t: sleeping in each other’s beds, holding hands when a movie got a bit too scary, Eddie kissing your forehead before he left your house.

And that was just the surface level. God only knows how much the two of you had practically seeped into each other’s skin after your years of friendship.

With everything going on right now, Eddie’s inhibitions lowered, the feeling of his cock tightening in his jeans at the prospect of you two finally crossing that godforsaken line… he couldn’t stop himself.

“C’mon, princess. Don’t try and act all high and mighty now like you haven’t thought of me that way.” He started, fully expecting you to smack him on the side of the head but, you didn’t.

Eddie kept going, “Like you haven’t thought about me with my head between those pretty thighs.”

“I haven’t.” You gulped, your hand traveled up your arm and stopped at your elbow.

After knowing each other for years, it was obvious that you’d pick up on one another’s habits. Certain words that you’d coin, your favorite items of clothing… when you were lying.

The number of times you’d call your parents from Eddie’s house, claiming that the two of you were studying when in actuality you weren’t. He noticed the way you scratched your elbow while lying through your teeth.

Just like you were right now.

“Mosquito bite?” He asked, pointing out your nervous tick, “Or did you hit your funny bone too?” He smirked.

“E-Eddie,” You stuttered, “Trying to seduce me isn’t gonna get me to say a bad word.” You chuckled nervously.

“Really?” He said, unconvinced, “When have you, Y/N Y/L/N, ever backed down from a challenge?”

Suddenly, you realized how close in proximity the two of you were. For the second time in the past week, you could feel his body heat radiating from his chest.

“Y/N…” He continued in a sing-song tone, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at my hands while I played my guitar.”

“Were you thinking about these fingers fucking your pussy?” Eddie held up his ring-clad fingers and whispered in your ear.

“God, Eddie,” You exhaled, “Are you really taking this that far?”

This was your final attempt. It was the last time you were going to resist what your body was screaming at you to do… Let Eddie take you right here, right now, on his bed.

“Tell me to stop, Princess. Tell me to let it go and I will. Promise.” He extended his pinky finger.

You didn’t take it.

“So, is that a yes?” Eddie asked, scanning your body for any indication that you didn’t want this. That was the last thing he wanted to do, make you uncomfortable.

But with the way your chest heaved up and your thighs were pressed together, he knew.

“Mhm.” You nodded.

Eddie tutted, “Uh-uh, Sweetheart. Use your words.”

This was it. You knew once you uttered these words, your friendship with Eddie would be changed forever. It would breach uncharted territory. The thought of that should have terrified you but, it didn’t. You longed for this.

And right now, wanting his calloused fingers inside of you trumped any hesitation that could’ve formed.

“Yes.”

Smirking, Eddie moved from his seated position and climbed to the edge of the bed. He pulled your ankles with enough force so that you were lying down.

Crawling back up, Eddie hovered over you, his hair falling in your face while his hands started to unbutton your jeans, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this, Y/N/N.”

Eddie took his sweet time. He slowly tugged down your zipper and began to peel your pants off of your body. Your hips bucked up so that he could get them past your ass and down to your ankles. He gave them a final pull before they fell onto the floor.

He returned to his position above you. Eddie maintained intense eye contact with you before cupping your clothed pussy.

“You’re so warm, Sweetheart. I bet you’re wet too, hmm?” He used his pointer finger to push your panties to the side, lightly grazing your clit in the process.

He was right. Arousal practically dripped from your pussy and right onto his bedsheets, “Fuck,” He sighed, “Is this all for me?”

“Y-yeah. All for you, Eds.” Your voice was breathy as you tried not to moan in anticipation.

He hummed approvingly before taking his hand away, letting your underwear fall right back into place.

Suddenly, his attention fell onto your neck. Eddie left a trail of kisses starting at your collar bone and kissed up to your earlobe, “Take them off for me, Princess.” He demanded.

You didn’t waste any time, using both hands to slide out of your panties. Before you could toss them aside, Eddie grabbed them from you and shoved them into his pocket, “Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ll give them back later.”

You felt his fingers brush the inside of your thigh, inches away from where you wanted him the most. You waited a few more seconds, trying to gauge his next move.

When his fingers kept dancing in between your thighs, you whined, “Eddie, if you’re not going to do anything-” Oh.

You felt as 3 of Eddie’s fingers slipped into your pussy. You could feel the ice-cold rings that littered his fingers brush against your inner thigh as he continued working, curling his fingers.

Eddie began to pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling your chest rise and fall. Lewd sounds and whimpers slipped past your lips when he brought his thumb to your clit and began to flick the bundle of nerves.

His cock strained against his jeans hearing you whine from underneath him, “Cat got your tongue, Princess? Don’t worry, I’ll have you screaming pretty soon.” He smirked.

Eddie increased his pace, which had your moans getting louder and louder each time his thumb circled your bud. Your eyes were snapped shut and your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping his bedsheets.

You felt heat begin to rise in the pit of your stomach, “I’m so close, Eds. Keep going.” You begged him.

His fingers didn’t let up as he began to slowly inch down the length of your body. Eddie used his free hand to spread your legs wider before positioning himself between them.

“You’re close, angel? Do you want to cum?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You moaned, arching your back.

“Say it.” You could feel Eddie’s breath fan across your clit.

Even in the heat of the moment, with Eddie’s fingers so furiously pounding your cunt to death, he still didn’t give up.

“Eddie. Please, just, please.” You groaned.

His fingers began to slow down. The coil that was building in your stomach began to fade away as he started to remove his fingers from your pussy.

“What are you doing?” You whimpered at the loss of contact and peered down at where Eddie was perched.

“Say it and I’ll keep going.”

Jesus. Is he really going to pull something like this? Right now out of all moments?!

Eddie could see the cogs churning in your head. He decided to make things even harder for you by placing a ginger kiss right on your clit, causing you to moan.

He’s officially won.

“Fuck! Just…” You stuttered, “Just fucking let me finish, please!” You pleaded, finally giving in after almost 2 weeks of being stubborn.

“Good girl.” He praised before hiking both of your legs up in the air and throwing them behind his shoulders.

He wasted no time, getting immediately back to work by showing your clit the most love and attention. Eddie licked a stripe up your cunt causing you to gasp.

You could feel waves of heat build-up again, followed by the coil threatening to snap as he continued to lap at your pussy.

Eddie glanced up and saw the way you were clutching his sheets for dear life. He peeled your left hand away and guided it to the back of his head. You then added your right hand into his locks without assistance, “Shit! Eddie, I’m almost there.”

You felt your orgasm approach as you began to clench around nothing and grind onto his face. The hands that were intertwined in his hair tugged on it, causing his face to angle slightly upward towards you.

As flashes of light began to cloud your vision, signaling to yourself that you finally reached your high and came all over Eddie’s sheets, you felt the bed begin to shake.

Shit, was my orgasm that powerful? You thought, highly confused.

You felt Eddie’s movements come to a stop. His head was still laid between your thighs, your fingers were still laced through his mane, pulling on it.

Holy. Shit.

You were frozen in your spot when you realized what was really happening. It wasn’t your orgasm that was so intense that caused the bed to shake, it was Eddie. Humping it. It really shouldn’t have gotten you as riled up as it did.

“Fuck, Princess. You’ve got me going feral.” He grunted, continuing to pound his mattress into oblivion.

You didn’t remove your hands from his hair as he continued to fuck his mattress. You watched, dumbfounded, and highly turned on because of this.

For almost two weeks, Eddie had been teasing you nonstop. Constantly doing things to intentionally get you turned on. You decided that it was your turn to add fuel to the fire, “Good boy.”

“Jesus. Fuck. God, I wish this mattress was you right now.” His head fell on your thigh and kissed it.

“Shit!” He swore once more, before letting out a grunt, letting you know that he had finished.

The aggressive movements came to an abrupt stop and he stood up and climbed fully into bed. He brushed away the hair that was matted to your forehead with sweat.

“That was….” Eddie sighed, flopping his head next to yours.

“Fun? Liberating?” You quoted him from earlier that night.

He scoffed, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah.” You said, loud and proudly.

A grin slowly appeared on Eddie’s face. You swore, without even being provoked, “That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your forehead.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #jey writes #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #Eddie Munson smut oneshot

16K notes · View notes

zhongrin · 1 year

Text

“honey, can you… leave me alone?”

— (sometimes, we all just need some downtime for ourselves)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, diluc, kaeya, kaveh, thoma, albedo, wanderer, xiao

◇ tags ◇ angst with comfort, established relationship, petnames

◇ a/n ◇ oh wow! guys!! i wrote angst with comfort!!! guys!!!!!!! are you proud of me????? this is kinda self-indulgent bc i wrote this when i was just. tired. you know, those moments where you genuinely just want to shut down and be in your own company? yeah.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli smiles patiently. and if he judged that you would allow him to, he would place a kiss on top of your head before stepping away. his movements are graceful and calculated, amber eyes ever so observant as he watches the droop of your lashes and the downturn of your lips.

ah. you’re in that kind of mood.

with a firm nod, he promises to give you all the space you needed, as long as at the end of the day you return to his arms. a few hours or days of waiting would certainly make him miss you terribly, but zhongli is a patient man, and your well-being matters most.

“of course. you’ll come to me when you’re ready, yes?”

al haitham understands your needs very well. contrary to most people’s beliefs, he would put them just as equally high - if not more - than his own needs most of the time.

he simply nods upon your words and, after much consideration, would place his soundproof headphones on your side before he leaves the room, carefully minding his footsteps as he walks towards kaveh’s room to inform the architect of the situation and remind him to tone his antics down.

“alright. call me if you need anything.”

diluc would automatically ask you if something is wrong or is bothering you - it’s his protective instincts, don’t blame him too much - but he knows not to probe further when you give him that look.

he offers for a maid to deliver your favorite warm drink later, and with one last comforting squeeze of his hand on top of yours, he leaves, his head full of questions and his heart set to spoil you rotten the moment you return to his side.

“adelinde? tell the maids to skip cleaning [name]’s study today. and tell the workers to be especially quiet when they walk about the second floor.”

kaeya might only have half the eyesight normal people have, yet he’s anything but inattentive, especially when it comes to you. he settles with a light, fleeting caress upon your cheek with his gloved hand, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before retreating, offering you a sympathetic grin.

“i got you, babe. i’ll be at the office doing paperwork for once, but you can visit me anytime, okay?”

thoma holds back the urge to fuss over you like the mother hen that he is.

he knows about this habit of yours - sometimes lady ayaka exhibits the same behavior - so he knows he shouldn’t be too worried. you always get over this eventually; what you need now is time, and just like any other point in time in your relationship, he is more than willing to accommodate all of your desires.

“do you need me to sleep at the couch tonight? it’s really no trouble at all, love. anything that makes you most comfortable, okay?”

kaveh visibly pouts and looks like he’s about to cry when you ask him for such a request.

he can’t help it, okay? he wants to hold and kiss and cherish you constantly! so having to deliberately spend some time apart from you is torture to him… plus, those tired eyes of yours hurt his poor empathetic heart more than anything.....

with a saddened nod, he fiddles his fingers and gives you a pair of wet puppy eyes.

“are you sure, baby? …... you know you can tell me anything, right? …… whenever you’re ready, okay, precious? i’ll be in the living room, then…. come find me soon, okay, my love?”

albedo doesn’t even bat an eye. he’s already long since memorized your behavioral patterns, and from your recent ventures, he did conclude that this was going to happen. all within expectations, he muses, yet he can’t help but feel saddened at the exhaustion prominently displayed on your features.

with a soft smile, he places his specially curated ‘care package’ on your lap along with a gentle kiss on your cheek before exiting the room and hanging a “do not disturb - contact albedo instead” sign right in front of the door.

“there are a few snacks and calming scented candles inside, along with a few interesting puzzles and crafts. i thought you might like them and find them relaxing. i’ll be at the lab - just send a message through sucrose or timaeus if you need me.”

wanderer’s automatic response is a half-fearful, half-angry “are you fucking serious? hell no!”, but the second emotion is amplified when he sees the murkiness in your expression.

he swears to inflict pain upon whoever dared to put this expression on your face, but he falters when you explain your thoughts the best you can in your current headspace. eventually, with a scowl on his face and a gruff "fine.", the door closes behind him and he slides onto the floor. sure, you can shoo him away, but he has no intention to move from that spot until you reopen the said door.

“….. hmph. guess being a puppet is a good thing at times like these.”

xiao relates to your struggles far too well. he simply nods and teleports out from the room as fast as he could, not wanting his karmic debt to affect your mood further negatively.

throughout it all, your silent protector watches from afar and listens to the wind around you ever so cautiously. just because he agreed to give you space, it doesn’t mean he can’t continue to make sure you’re safe and sound, after all.

“understood. you need only call my name when you are ready to see me.”

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 years

Note

I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…

I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words

The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough.

Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals.

They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer.

"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room.

The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here."

You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue.

"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."

"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes.

He bats your hand away. "Stop."

You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.

He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.

"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.

He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is.

"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily.

"Sure am, sweetheart."

You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.

"Thanks."

You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you.

"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask.

"Baby, what the fuck have you done?"

The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly.

His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit."

You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether.

"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression.

Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand.

He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.

"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he says.

You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.

He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages.

"Hold the gauze, honey," he says.

You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees.

You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies."

"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious.

You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning."

He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."

He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now.

"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees."

"Sorry."

He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet."

"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!"

"I can be scarier."

"No you can't."

"No, I can't."

You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.

"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me."

"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask.

"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #x reader

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hunterofartemis7 · 14 days

Text

Pt.8

Damian: *lays back on the bathroom floor with Raven* ready to go back to bed?

Raven: *curled in a ball on the floor. Laying on a pallet of blankets that Damian made for her* no…😣

Damian: *rubs her back* you need to try and sleep beloved. In your bed, not on the floor

Raven:..no😣

Damian: *sighs* why not?

Raven: I don’t want to move…I’ll just start throwing up again…

Damian:….*kisses the back of her neck* okay. We’ll stay here till your ready

Raven: thank you…*snuggles up against in*

Damian: *holds her* you’re welcome

*back in the kitchen*

Selina: I’m sorry….can you repeat that?

Dick: we think Damian is possessed by a demon or being mind controlled by aliens

Selina: okay..that……that’s what I thought you said🤦🏻‍♀️

Tim: yeah, so wanna help us probe his brain?

Bruce: no!

Tim: aw ☹️

Selina: he’s not possessed or being minded controled! Why would you even think that?

Jason: cause he’s saying please, didn’t cuss at us, and is sleeping in! And he’s WAY more protective of raven than normal

Selina:….okay he might be possessed

Bruce: he’s not possessed 😑

Dick: you got a better explanation?

Bruce: yeah.

Jason: oh really, what?

Bruce: he was up all night with Raven cause she was sick with a stomach bug and didn’t have the energy to be an ass

Bat siblings:………………….

Dick: still doesn’t explain the protectiveness!

Bruce: his fiancée is sick, and you expect him to not be protective of her?

Dick:…fair

Alfred: *just smirking to himself*

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #robin damian #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce x selina #bruce wayne #selina kyle

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slvthrs · 9 months

Text

SWEET REVENGE AND GUITAR STRINGS | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your ex-boyfriend decided to cheat on you- the sane course of action was sleeping with his enemy

ROCKSTAR!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise n degradation kink, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), dressing room sex, slight violence and blood, blood kink if u squint

word count: 2.2k <3

Wrath.

Not even anger or rage- it was pure fucking red wrath. Your boyfriend of 2 years was cheating on you. He had the fucking audacity to cheat on you, and try to hide it.

God did you want to kill him.

Your bestfriend Elle had sent you a video of him making out with some rando chick at a party and then taking her into a room to obviously have sex. You weren’t even sad, you just wanted to hurt him.

It was 3 days after you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you and the wrath hadn’t gone away. You’ve been ignoring every text, every message, every call- he was going to be so pissed. You were doing a pretty good job of not running into him but today he had a gig and you would have to end up going.

You and Elle were sitting on your bed in your underwear and bra eating a huge assortment of candy and snacks while re-watching Sex Education.

“Wait have you confronted Theo about cheating on you yet” Elle asked with a lollipop between her lips

You groaned you wanted to but every time you thought about it all you could do was want to punch him “I wanted to trust me but I just wanna hurt him y’know I don’t need his half-assed apology”

“Wait so why don’t you just ditch his gig” Elle inquired

“I would but imagine your girlfriend just ditches you with an explanation because remember he doesn’t know I know he cheated on me” You threw your head back- it was gonna be really hard to get him back

“Hmm does he have like y’know enemies that you can y’know… fuck” Elle suggested

“Elle we’re not in a wattpad fan-fic, Theo doesn’t have enemies per say” You rolled your eyes… but he did have someone who pissed him off to no end

You shot up with a plan in mind, “But he does have someone he kinda hates” You said while you carding through your closet trying to find an outfit

“Oooh who” Elle sat up like a curious dog

“Vinnie” The name was met with a huff from Elle

Vincent Cole Hacker, lead guitarist and singer of his band and adored by girls all over the country.

His killer style mixed with his rough hair and piercings accompanied with the rings he adorned on each hand which trailed across his guitar with so much purpose you couldn’t help but think what else they could do.

The same Vinnie Theo hated, and the same Vinnie who could never take his eyes off you.

“Babe you're super hot but I’ve legit never seen Vinnie without his army of girls following him, are you sure he’s the one?” Elle probes and she's right Vinnie’s a chick magnet, you’d be lucky to find him alone, but Elle was also right about the fact you were hot, the way your hair sat, framing your face and the way you would bite your fingers, and look up at guys, batting your eyelashes and giggling- toying with their feelings- you had boys begging for you.

But Vinnie was the one you wanted.

“I know, I know, but I have a plan trust me”

You didn’t have a plan

All you knew was that Vinnie stared at you for far too long to be considered platonic, and no sane guy would give up a chance to hook up with you.

After about 2 hours, you and Elle were ready. She was wearing a denim skirt with a pink tank top and pink converse adorned with little accessories, while you were wearing a black cropped top with Dominic Fike embroidered on without a bra so you could see your nipples poking through the fabric. Paired with a black mini-skirt and pantyhose which looked like it was attacked by an army of cats and a pair of platforms with some other accessories here and there- you looked enchanting.

The pair of you got there around 30 minutes later and broke off, with Elle waking to the bar to get some drinks and you trying to find your cheating ass boyfriend.

The bass of all the people walking around made you want to turn on your heel and walk away. You had endured it for the sake of your boyfriend but now the air was filled with venom rather than admiration.

“There she is, hi baby” It sounded so goddamn awful coming from your boyfriends mouth but you had to play the part of the oblivious girlfriend for a little longer

“Hi Theo” You say with the only respect you have for him left and kiss his cheek

As he continues his conversation with his bandmates you zone out and look around while drinking some fruity drink his bandmates gave you. As you looked around you caught the addictive eyes of your target, Vinnie, and unsurprisingly he was checking you out, who wouldn't tbh.

As your staring competition played out you were quickly brought back to reality by your boyfriend telling you they were about to go on stage.

“Hey babe can I talk to you for a sec?” You asked and he went along with it, presumably thinking he was about to get some last minute action.

“Yeah baby, what do you want?” He asked, so fucking oblivious to what was about to happen.

“Who the fuck is this chick your making out with in this video” You said while playing out the video on your phone.

His mouth hung agape, this cunt thought he could have the audacity to be shocked.

“B-babe I don’t know what that is, I-I’m pretty sure I was like sure drunk” Seriously, the ‘I was drunk’ excuse?

He can do better than that.

“Are you fucking serious, I’ve been drunk plenty of times and I’ve never fucking cheated on you” Every gross and terrible emotion was bubbling up from inside you as you were about to overflow

“I-it doesn’t even matter I just kissed her your fucking overreacting!” Overreacting, this fucking bitch thinks I’m over reacting

With gritted teeth you said “Oh I’m overreacting? I’m fucking overreacting, well you wanna see overreacting?”

You didn’t even register what your body was doing before,

SNAP!

Fuck, your hand made contact with his face and there was a stream of red trickling down his nose while your knuckles were bruising up.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH” He yelled pushing you up against the wall, while his blood spilled on to your chest

On any other day you wouldn’t have been able to push him off but with the immense amount of rage mixed with adrenaline you were feeling you pushed him to the ground, with your head spinning you ran off into another room trying to catch your breath.

As you finally stood up from your hunched over position and walked over to the mirror in the room- shit my shirt has blood on it, I look like I killed someone

You try to get some tissues to take the blood off but it’s no use the blood is congealed and staining your white shirt so you grab a closed water bottle and try to figure out what dressing room you're in.

You hand slides across a red leather couch with stains and find a stack of polaroids.

As you shuffled through them you see a drummer and bassists clearly drunk and passed out on a sofa, in another one you can see a brunette making a face and flipping off the camera, and in the final one its a group photo 4 boys playing a song in front of a smaller audience- in the photo you spot a particular face- Vinnie.

And as fate has been so kind the tall blonde walks into the room as if on cue, “Oh shit, what are you doing here?”

But before you you can answer his eyes widen and he walks towards you, “Fuck are you okay” He says with knitted eyebrows as his hand hesitantly swiping the blood of your shirt.

“Yeah, it's not my blood” You say with a smile as you try to reassure him, but which only leads him to look at you, even wider eyed.

“It’s Theo’s” You continue as you sit down on the red sofa, “He kinda cheated on me so y’know he deserved it”

You play with your hands in your lap as you look up at Vinnie who's now sitting next to you with an unreadable expression.

“Well he fucking deserved it then” He says breaking the silence as you look up to meet his gaze, “If you we’re my girl, I’d cut my balls of before cheating on you”

You let out an obnoxious laugh while he follows you, “I’m serious though I would never do that, your to fucking hot for that.”

“Yeah yeah” You breathe out as you tip your head back on the sofa as you let Vinnie’s eyes rake over your body, huffing your chest so your tits press against your shirt, watching how he bites his lips.

“So any plans now that you're single” He was obviously trying to hint at you, so you played along.

“I dunno Vinnie, do you have any ideas for me?” You said sliding across the sofa, closer to the blonde boy

He hands trail over the blood on your shirt, staining his fingers and dragging his hand onto your jawline pulling your face up to his, so close but so fucking far, “I have a few ideas”

“Yeah”, You breathe out, “Show me”

Both of your lips interlock at a slow pace at first until he pulls your face away from him to breathe but his gaze drops to your spit covered lips and flushed out look before he smashes them up together for the second time and pulls you onto straddle his lap.

“God every fucking time I saw you with that prick I wanted to kill myself.” He confessed, letting his hands graze up your sides pulling your top off.

All you do in response is giggle whilst you tip your head back so he can lay a trail of saccharine sweet kisses from the base of your neck down to your tits. Your hands scratch his shoulders, bawling his shirt in your first hoping he’ll take it off.

And if Gods looking out for you, he pulls his shirt of ruffling if his hair and goes back to attack your chest with love bites, your hands reach to the back of his head grabbing a tuft of his hair as you throw your head back and moan as his teeth catch your nipples in his mouth.

“Vinnie, fuck oh my god” You moaned out, his hands moved to flip up your skirt and fondling your ass while you grind down on his hardened dick, then he takes shuffles around with his belt pulling it of and tossing it on the ground keeping you too connected with the bloody kisses falling from your lips on to his tan skin.

“Whenever he kissed you, touched you, my skin felt like it was on fucking fire,” He pulls of his pants with one swift motion as they fall to the ground with a light, airy thud, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you, your too hot for him,”

You pull off of him to stare into his eyes, “Vinnie, I adore you, but if you bring up my ex one more damn time while we're about to have sex I’m getting up and leaving” You say will as emotionless of a face you can pull.

He airs out a breathy laugh but rather than replying he flips the two of you over onto the sofa and rips your skirt of, “Yes ma’am,” He starts, “But we both know your not leaving to go anywhere”

He looks for a condom but I stop him, “I’m on birth control and your clean, don’t worry”, you say with the most poise you can muster whilst your under a 6 foot man

With his new found confidence, he lines up your entrance with his dick, carefully sliding in, going gently through your folds whilst you arch into the motion gasping out for him,

As your hands hook around his head to pull both of you into a kiss, he sets a ruthless pace, pounding into you like his life depends on it but not letting you relish a single moment of freedom.

He doesn’t stop for a second, not letting you rest whilst the entire room echos with sounds of skin slapping and it doesn’t stop, turning the melody of your skins coming in contact and the rhythm of your synched breathless moans turns the room into a orchestra of pleasure and carnal desire as both of you chase your release.

And it’s not far, you cum first with a loud moan and arching your back with your mouth in an ‘O’ shape and he’s not far behind cumming in you and dropping down on to you to place more hickeys all over you and claim you even more as his.

They say revenge is an act of passion, and while you're laying there, breath panting, legs sore and your ex-boyfriends biggest rival laying on top of you rubbing circles into your skin… you can’t help but think they're right, because what’s a bigger act of passion than sex? And what’s a bigger form of revenge than betrayal? And the best betrayal is the sight of your ex-boyfriend watching you limp out of a dressing room with your hair and makeup messed up whilst his rival follows behind you in an even worse state.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #bella's full works

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caramelarchive · 6 months

Note

could I request something like the reader deciding to give L a lil massage. It started out in their head as smth sweet/relaxing until it became high-key concerning cuz every press of their hands draws out a deafening crack

Let's Try a Massage ╾ L

BAHHAHAHAHHAA the fact that this is not somehow canon is a crime, I cannot. anyway, thanks for asking! let's go! I have moved to my main @lawlietscaramels please follow there for new content!

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

"Boo," you say, coming up behind L to rest your hands on his shoulders and your head besides his. He gives a quick hum of acknowledgement and you peck his cheek.

"Hello, there." After a minute, he turns away from the computer's bright screen, rubbing his eyes and rolling his shoulders as he turns to look at you. L gives a yawn, one of the rare signs he trusts and loves you enough to let his stoic guard down, and blinks sleepily at you.

Your hands brush along his shoulders.

"Ready to take a break yet?" you tease gently, poking at his neck.

"I suppose so." L turns back towards his computer, one finger tapping against the j key and the other prodding at his lip. "I don't think I can do anything else at the moment," he decides, and turns the monitor off, scooping a forkful of cake into his mouth as he does so. "Did you want something?"

L spins his chair around to face you at this question, his head tilting up as he peers at you from the seat. One of his hands reaches up to rub at his shoulder and he gives a cross groan, not breaking eye contact.

"...Did you want something?" you ask, smiling and poking at his shoulders. L groans again and bats your hands away.

"I am simply a little sore."

You grin as a wonderful idea comes into your head: something sweet and cute, to help L relax after yet another long day of hard work.

"In that case, I can help!"

It's a difficult feat to pick L up, so you just roll his chair over to the couch and push him onto the cushions.

The detective turns his head to the side, so he is able to keep his eyes on you, but does not make any move to protest. L just shifts around a little, groaning unhappily, and waits for you to do... whatever it is you're going to do.

Pressing your hands together for a minute to warm them up, you eye your partner up and down.

...Definitely, a massage is required here.

You decide to plonk yourself down on his back for easy access, your hands reaching up to L's shoulders. Your fingers probe into the skin and L gives a small sigh of gratitude. A smile spreads across your face, as you're obviously able to remove some of the stress he has placed on his body by scrunching it into a ball all of the time.

And then a crunch.

You almost fall onto the floor, scared out of your wits. "L! The human body should not make that noise!"

"My apologies."

You sigh and stroke his hair for a moment. "I think this proves that you need some sort of assistance with your back, my love."

The gesture, which you thought to be sweet, becomes more and more concerning as you continued. Wherever you place your hands, there is a dramatic crunch, a crack, all very loud and very not normal.

"L, when was the last time you saw a doctor? Or an acupuncturist or a chiropractor or a physiotherapist?"

He just shakes his head.

You press your hands into his back and it cracks in protest. You take your hands off him and wring them in dismay.

"I just wanted to give you a massage, and now you sound like a whip-person..."

L gives a little chuckle. "Yes... Perhaps a different approach is in order, my dear Y/N." He shifts again, turning to look at you once more.

"I'll run you a bath."

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

what if I wrote a little bath scene? nothing nsft as I have said but I mean,, rose petals in the water, bringing in a rubber ducky or a plastic ship... lemme know if you want that as a part two!!

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 91

Part 1 Part 90

Eddie’s not thinking. Observations are floating into his mind too fast for him to categorize them, just snapshots of blinding confusion and color. Click – the explosion of pain when his knuckle impacts strangely against Hargrove’s jaw. Click – pain blooming against his ribs, sending him sprawling atop Hargrove’s chest. Click – he’s on the pavement, Perkins’ crawling atop him, pointy elbow jamming into his throat as she winds back to slap Hargrove hard enough in the face to send his head ricocheting into Eddie’s side. Click – Hargrove’s straddling his screaming ribs as he punches him, once, twice, ramming his head into the concrete hard enough that it bounces, exploding pain on both sides of his skull.

Eddie closes his eyes against the pain, holding his hands above his face in a futile effort to defend his sparking face against more damage.

Nothing else comes. Just for a second, Hagrove’s weight crushes his ribs further. The pressure compresses his lungs, all the air whooshing out in a quiet oomph. And then it’s gone.

Eddie curls into himself, hands around his ribs on instinct, eyes still closed until the screaming starts.

His eye feels swollen, sight fuzzy around the edges as he looks up at his savior.

It's not Perkins, or Mama Byers, or Barb, or even Steve.

Little Red stands over her brother, the nail bat in her hands pointed warningly toward his junk, dirty sneaker close enough that if she kicked forward, there’d never be any little Billy’s running around the world. Her hair’s got dirt in it, the fire in her eyes making her look almost feral.

Her voice is loud enough to ring throughout the neighborhood, but it’s going through his head like it’s underwater, like he’s Charlie Brown, it’s all just muffled, wah wah wah’s.

All he can hear is the ringing in his ears, high pitched and aching through his skull. Hargrove’s hands are raised, and he’s got a mocking sneer on his face, but his eyes tell a different story. They’re wide and afraid, and he’s scooting backward in the driveway, shirt riding up so his skin’s sliding across the pavement in a way that’s got to hurt.

Eddie levers himself to his feet. He wobbles around on sea legs for a second until a hand clamps onto his shoulder, steadying him. It’s Perkins. There’s a bruise already blooming on her cheek, and her hair’s a riot of knots. She slides her hands into his hair, probing around his head until she finds a spot that has him wincing and pulling back.

Her words reach him, muffled but unjumbled. “—need to get you to a hospital,” she says, leaning around him to look at the spot she’d just proved. “You’re bleeding like, a lot.”

Eddie leans into her, eyes closing for just a second. “Steve first,” he replies. The words rumble strangely through his chest.

He opens his eyes just in time to see Perkins eyes roll.

The voices around him unjumble slowly, until he can make out distinct words, unmuffled and blessedly decipherable.

Clearly, his scrambled egg of a brain just needed to catch up with its new inflamed state.

“Everyone inside,” Mama Byers calls, voice strained. It’s only then that Eddie notices the lights turned on in the houses around them, and the way curtains twitch back like the nosy rich people can’t help themselves.

Hargrove’s still in the ground, but Max hefts the bat up anyway, pointing it toward him with a final edict of, “Go home.” She turns around, sauntering toward the Harrington’s front door in a way the Eddie’d die to be able to emulate. “I’ll be home soon.”

Lucas snorts as he runs to catch up to her, Mike and Dustin right behind him.

Eddie and Perkins don’t start forward until Barb and Will lead Steve out of the van. Barb has his head angled down, clearly trying to obscure the blindfold on his face. Will’s smiling up at him and nodding as if they’re holding a conversation no one else can hear. Eddie hopes it’s enough of a show to stop the nosy neighbors from calling the cops. Hop’s indisposed and everyone else will just get in the way.

Perkins has her arm around his waist, but each of his steps bring more surety, like his brain and his legs are reestablishing their link. Still, she doesn’t let go.

They’re all loitering in front of the front door, arguing about how to get inside. Perkins bullies her way past, digging the hide-a-key out of its place buried in the leaves of the bush planted in the pot beside the front door.

She slides it home, turns it in the lock like she’s used to it. Like she belongs here in a way that Eddie, and the rest of the party, and even Steve himself don’t.

She leads them inside. Eddie wriggles out from her grasp so he can flip the lights on.

Something giddy runs through his veins as he hears the heat click on. He turns, smiling brightly at the rest of the group, just as Dustin closes the door behind them.

There’s something manic, and woozy, and hopeful running through him as he looks at all these people gathered in Steve’s childhood home, willing to do anything to save him.

“Let’s get this party started,” Eddie calls, like they’re at some sort of high school rager instead of a grim group of people about to boil their friend alive if it’ll save his life.

When everyone looks at him, bug-eyed and wary, Eddie just laughs.

Part 92

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #i Briefly considered having an awkward interaction between joyce and a neighbor #but I've been to richer neighborhoods #those ppl aren't leaving their house. they're talking shit to each other later or maybe calling the cops

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